


Sing Me to Sleep

by cloverdose



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Comfort, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M, Sadness, hurting, use of perscription drugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 01:08:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5723827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloverdose/pseuds/cloverdose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pete can't sleep after breakups.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sing Me to Sleep

Pete remembered the first time he asked Patrick to sing for him. To really sing for him. Not as a profession, but as a friend. Patrick was eighteen and Pete was tired. The bassist hadn’t slept in days. Another night wasted on the same arguments with the same girl. Tour was getting to him, and Pete had used the last of his prescription on the two flights they had.  
“You busy?” Pete asked in the lounge of the bus. Patrick was always busy, at least it seemed like it. He was fiddling on his new laptop, something Pete hadn’t seen Patrick put down since he got it. Which was fair, Pete spent most of his time on his own computer. But that was Pete’s way of wasting time.  
“Nope.” Patrick answered, looking up at the older man. “What’s up?”  
It was the first time Pete started a conversation in probably a week that wasn’t with someone over the phone. Pete didn’t want to talk about it. Which is why Pete wasn’t talking. Patrick noticed though, but respected waiting for Pete to come to him.  
“I don’t want to talk about it.” Pete told the singer, sitting next to him on the couch. He laid his head on Patrick’s thigh, his legs going off the furniture. He was comfortable though. “I’m done arguing.” Pete didn’t have to explain, Patrick knew. Whatever breakup Pete had, everyone was sure to have known by now. Pete stopped censoring himself on phone calls, he was mad and yelling and of course she was mad and yelling back. Just no one talked about it. At least it was better on the bus then the van. It was easier to pretend like it wasn’t going on.  
Patrick ruffled his hands through Pete’s hair, attempting to comfort. The singer wouldn’t say much unless Pete gave him something to talk about. So he let the older man lay in his lap, hoping he was doing some good.  
“Can you sing for me?” Pete asked, breaking the silence between the two. Patrick looked down at the bassist whose eyes were meeting his.  
“Really?” Patrick didn’t know what to say. He knew Pete liked his voice, but he didn’t realize in this context. Pete shrugged.  
“Yeah, it’ll help.”  
Patrick cleared his throat, shutting off the laptop. Everyone else was in their bunks, and hopefully asleep. The younger man started off softly, mostly humming rather than singing any words. Pete sat up, watching Patrick. His eyes were wide and sunken in from the lack of sleep, which just made Patrick sing louder. He didn’t sing Fall Out Boy. Pete didn’t recognize what Patrick was singing, but it didn’t matter, because Pete immediately felt better hearing Patrick’s voice.  
The younger man didn’t sing for long, he didn’t look at Pete once he started singing either. When Patrick came to a stopping point, he looked back at Pete. The bassist had his eyes closed, half asleep on Patrick’s thigh. The singer ruffled his dark hair again, staying with Pete on the couch. 

Pete requesting Patrick to sing didn’t end stop with just one breakup. Pete remembers during the end of Warped, when whatever was going on with Mikey came to a screeching halt. Pete didn’t sleep for days, he spent too much time writing, tearing up notebooks, avoiding everybody. Pete knew Patrick was worried, but didn’t acknowledge anyone unless it had to do with the show going on. Professionally, Pete was fine. He was usually pretty good at faking that, but alone he was a wreck, and he didn’t care who saw him. Finally, the bassist broke down and went to Patrick again.  
The last night of Warped, everyone was trashed. Fall Out Boy was still under the straight-edge scene, except for Joe, who dragged Andy out to the party. Pete assumed Patrick stayed because of him, or because the singer actually didn’t feel like going out. Patrick looked right at Pete as he walked into the lounge of the bus. Pete looked rough. Eyes dark from lack of sleep and hair out of control.  
“You could’ve gone out.” Pete said, ignoring the look Patrick was giving him.  
“So could you.” The singer retorted. He had a point, but Pete wasn’t going to argue. He sat down, looking at the television.  
“What are we watching?” Pete asked, the screen was black. Patrick just shrugged.  
“You pick.”  
They watched some shitty horror movie they both talked over. Their commentary making the experience that much funnier. Patrick got up to find popcorn and one movie turned into watching the just as shitty sequel. Pete felt himself feel normal for the first time in a while. The whole point wasn’t to think about Mikey, which he didn’t. Pete could even feel his eyelids getting heavy. He might be able to sleep.  
Pete laid on Patrick’s shoulder. The singer didn’t seem to mind. The touchiness wasn’t ever an issue in private. Pete also wasn’t trying to get a rise out of him. He just wanted a pillow.  
“Get some sleep, Wentz.” Patrick told him. Pete grumbled in response. He was too comfortable on the other man. “I’m serious, Pete. Go to bed.” The bassist opened his eyes but didn’t move.  
“Lay with me.” Pete was barely audible. He almost took it back before Patrick answered.  
“If you’ll actually fall asleep.” Pete moved off Patrick’s shoulder and just nodded. He got up from his seat on the couch and into his bunk, Patrick trailing behind.  
It was awkward, getting them both to fit, but eventually at least Pete was comfortable curled up against Patrick.  
“Can you sing?” Pete asked, his hand moving along Patrick’s side.  
Patrick sang the first thing that came to mind, the same song as last time. The younger man didn’t know if Pete remembered, but knowing Pete, he probably did.  
The bassist said nothing, just continued the rhythm of movement he had on Patrick’s side. Eventually it stopped, and he could hear Pete’s breath steady.  
It wasn’t long after that Patrick fell asleep wrapped around Pete. 

The divorce was probably the worst Pete had been in a long time. The band’s breakup was difficult. Or hiatus, whatever they were calling it. But the divorce was something Pete had to do alone and his major security network was currently avoiding him. Which Pete understood and tried to respect. The bassist avoided leaving the house, staying up all night just staring at the wall. He would go days without eating, not feeling anything, to complete rage. Pete didn’t talk to anyone if he didn’t have to, only trying to maintain his composure when he had his kid.  
He was genuinely taken aback when Patrick showed up at his door.  
Pete hadn’t seen the younger man in a while. He followed updates on his tour and album, and of course, the other’s engagement. When Pete answered the door, he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to see Patrick.  
“Hey.” Was all Pete had to say. Patrick’s smile was awkward.  
“Hey.” The singer said back. “Can I come in?” Of course the now solo artist had known what was going on. Pete’s divorced was highly publicized. Just like his entire life. He didn’t answer, he just opened the door wider for Patrick to come in.  
Patrick shut the door behind him, following Pete in.  
“I’m sorry this was unexpected. I was in the area.” Pete nodded. Patrick was always invited, at least, he’s told the singer that before. Those kind of invitations stay pretty open.  
“Do you want anything?” Pete asked him, feeling weird hearing himself talk. Patrick shook his head.  
“No, I’m fine. I just, well I wanted to see how you were.” Pete made eye contact. It was a dumb question. Patrick knew Pete, and he would know how Pete would be dealing.  
“I’ve been better.” He didn’t lie. Patrick nodded.  
“Do you want to talk about it?” Pete almost laughed. He didn’t want to talk about his failed marriage. If he didn’t know Patrick like he did, it would seem as if the singer was there to rub it in.  
“I’m not going to take a handful of pills in a parking lot, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Pete’s tone was harsh, but he felt like a child. He was being checked up on. He was an obligation and it pissed him off. Patrick shook his head.  
“That’s not why I’m here, and you know it.” He spat back, stepping closer to Pete. Pete sighed, already mad at himself.  
“I’m sorry.” Pete responded, not looking up.  
Patrick brushed it off, dragging Pete into his own living room.  
“You need human contact, and something to distract yourself with.” Patrick pretty much demanded. Within an hour the two were sitting on Pete’s couch, eating shitty food and watching dumb movies. They didn’t have to catch up, they weren’t those kind of friends. Pete lightened up throughout the night, but he was actually feeling tired halfway through the third movie they put on. The older man laid out on the couch, next to Patrick. But they weren’t touching.  
“Do you wanna sleep, man?” Patrick had asked, figuring he knew the answer. Pete also knew how tired he looked. He didn’t respond with words though, rather he grunted on the couch, content with where he was. Patrick laughed.  
“Would you stay with me?” Pete asked after a few moments of silence. It was quiet, but definitely audible. Pete didn’t know where the two really stood in that regard, but he had to ask. Patrick was silent for a moment, which just fueled Pete’s anxiety.  
“Yeah, okay.” The singer finally responded. Pete calmed down a little, it was confidant, making Pete feel better. The older man sat up from the couch, faintly smiling as the two made their way up to Pete’s bedroom.  
Pete was the first to lay down, waiting for Patrick to get out of the bathroom. The younger man came out in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of boxers, similar to what Pet was wearing, without the shirt. Patrick laid down, close to Pete, but again not touching.  
Pete stayed silent, facing the opposite direction of Patrick. He was silently regretting even asking Patrick to sleep with him until he felt the singer’s arm around him. It was hesitant, Patrick didn’t put all of the weight on his arm on Pete until the bassist relaxed into the touch. Patrick pulled the older man closer. Pete rolled over, meeting Patrick’s eyes.  
Pete didn’t have to ask, Patrick was already humming. He grinned, laying on the singer’s chest. Pete closed his eyes, feeling the weight of exhaustion. Patrick’s singing was faint, but it was comfortable. Pete felt himself loosening up.  
Pete was asleep before Patrick finished the song.

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first thing i've ever posted on here, and one of the first complete things i've written in a while so i hope it's enjoyable.


End file.
